


AdulteReid

by Interiorwinter



Series: Work me a little magic [6]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Adultery, Episode: s01e06 L.D.S.K., I don't really think Aaron would cheat, M/M, POV First Person, Spencer however is another matter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 08:13:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19372762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Interiorwinter/pseuds/Interiorwinter
Summary: Spencer goes down on the firing range





	AdulteReid

**Author's Note:**

> So this is just some fluffy smut, I kind of liked the title, even though I really don't think Aaron is the cheating type. I broke my own rules though, the title of this one isn’t a quote from the episode.

AdulteReid

I didn’t think it would be easy, but then they say things worth having never are, and Aaron Hotchner was definitely worth having. He wasn’t the first married man I’d wanted. There had been a visiting physics professor my final year at Caltech whose English accent and boy band good looks had first awakened a needy lustfulness I wasn’t aware I possessed. Particle physics wasn’t my field, but I attended his lectures because when he walked into a room all the air seemed to disappear in a way I couldn’t even begin to explain. The way he could describe the inflatron field and theorize about multiverses was also a serious part of the attraction. Sex was something that happened because opportunities presented themselves, and until him I had never felt the lurching grip of real desire. I had slept with both men and women, although none of the encounters were particularly memorable or satisfying. I don’t remember making a conscious decision to pursue him, but at some point I took to visiting his office between lectures and staying for as long as he would let me. The usual social awkwardness I felt in groups disappeared when we were alone in his office and our conversations ranged from accepted theories to outlandish hypotheses. Sometimes we would meet for lunch and use whatever was at hand to make models explaining aspects of string theory, lines of scattered salt and sugar representing interactions between gravitation and magnetism. We weren’t exactly popular with the staff.

One afternoon locked away in his office I was gesticulating madly trying to illustrate Hawking’s hypothesis of Black Holes and knocked my hand against the edge of the heavy bookshelf I was standing beside. I squeaked in pain and he immediately moved out from behind his desk and took my hand to examine the damage. He was so close to me, my hand in his and for the first time in my life my brain just stopped functioning and my body took over. I kissed him hard, the momentum from the need ripping through me pushed us back against his desk. It was hardly an act of seduction, there had been nothing pre-meditated except for my knowledge that I wanted him desperately. Of course I expected him to move away, perhaps even push me back angrily, but he didn’t. He let me kiss him, and then slowly one hand moved up my body, he curled his fingers into my hair and he began to kiss me back, soon matching my hunger with his own. We spent the next six months fucking each other senseless, I don’t think anyone else ever knew. I never met his wife, although there was a photo of a very English looking woman on his desk. At the end of the semester he was gone, back to the UK and we never contacted each other again. Maybe I should have felt guilty, but I didn’t. It seemed to me that the enjoyment we took from each other’s bodies was not something I could regret, but neither did I expect it to be anything other than what it was.  I hadn’t wanted anyone in that way again until I joined the BAU

SSA Aaron Hotchner was handsome, in fact with those cheekbones and dimples he was almost pretty. Tall and dark, he was definitely my type. It was more than just physical attraction though. If it had simply been about the way he looked it would have faded over time, or at least dulled into something manageable. He really had no idea what an intoxicating combination his determination to punish evil and film star good looks were. It was no surprise to learn he had started his career as a Federal Prosecutor. Aaron had an almost innate desire to hunt down bad guys, or girls and bring them justice. It was a surprise that he decided to swap a fast track to political prominence for an anonymous role as an FBI profiler. If anyone was a sure thing to win votes from a fickle public it was Aaron Michael Hotchner. I have no doubt that had he decided to pursue public office, his path would have taken him all the way to the White House. I learned later that perhaps even more than his feelings for me, his choice to abandon that road affected his marriage profoundly.

Unlike the professor, this time I deliberately set out to seduce him. I wasn’t, of course, expecting to be successful. I was young, socially inept and lacking in any real ability to manipulate situations to my advantage. I knew I wanted him, but I wanted lots of things without ever having any likelihood of garnering them. There was just something about Aaron that made me realize I couldn’t ever be happy unless I tried. You can judge me if you want, God knows I judge myself now, but I will plead the excuse that youth is callous. That he was straight, married, and far more sensible than myself just added to the challenge.

We had been working together for almost two years before I finally summoned the courage to actually try and make a connection. I was a textbook nerd; tall, gangly and with appalling vision that thankfully lacked astigmatism so I could wear contact lenses, which I did as soon as I joined the Bureau. Byron had rather liked the way my glasses slipped down my nose when I was concentrating so I hadn’t bothered with contacts until field work made them a necessity. I was only an inch shorter than Aaron, but where I was almost scrawny, he was broad and toned. I don’t see it myself, but I’ve been told (especially by Aaron), that I’m beautiful. I guess I have a certain appeal, if you like that kind of thing, which unfathomably seems to reside mainly in the mind of women who offer their bodies for sale. Maybe my charm lies in the perception that I appear to offer no physical threat to anyone, I was once described as a pipe cleaner with eyes. It matters little to me what the world thinks of my physical prowess, I only know that when my legs are wrapped around Aaron’s hips and he is moving rhythmically inside me before he loses himself in the ecstasy of his orgasm it makes me feel more powerful than any Derek Morgan could ever hope to be.

But I’m digressing. It was guns that first brought him undone. Kindly, given my complete lack of hand/eye co-ordination, Aaron offered to help me train to renew my firearms qualification. Twice a year I was expected to undergo a qualification renewal that I dreaded only second to the fitness trial I was also expected to complete. I understood the logic behind the requirements, obviously field agents had to be physically fit and have frequently updated firearms testing but that my own particular assets never formed part of any mitigating considerations rankled my sense of fairness. I felt that given Gideon and Hotch’s unwillingness to let me loose in the field the least they could do was give me a head start in the areas I was patently deficient in. The closest I got was Aaron offering to tutor me in firearms training twice a year. It was an offer I was more than happy to accept.

“On S.W.A.T we broke shots down into three steps. One, front sight, focus on the front sight not on the target.”

‘Just as well,’ I thought, even with my contacts if the target is more than thirty feet away it’s unlikely I’ll see them at all.

“Two, controlled trigger press.”

I wondered what the difference between a controlled and an uncontrolled trigger press was. If you were going to shoot someone then you were going to shoot them, controlled trigger press or not.

“Three, follow through. After the shot you come right back to the target.”

I tried, I really did, but I managed to miss every part of the paper humanoid target flapping in front of me.

“Now what did you do wrong?” Hotch’s voice sounded authoritatively behind me.

“Ask you to help me.” I muttered almost silently.

“I didn’t follow through” I replied loudly.

“Right, you came off the target to see where you hit.”

“Only because I’m more bored than watching Elle try to get your attention.” I whispered, but then he was standing right beside me and aimed his gun at the target.

“Front sight, trigger press, follow through. You do those three things and you’ll hit your target every time.”

As added punctuation he fired his weapon three times, every one a head shot.

I felt defeated.

“They’re going to take away my gun.” I said gloomily. He was standing close, I could smell the heady scent of his cologne, mixed seductively with the sharpness of propellant.  Ralph Lauren’s Safari. It suited him perfectly, deeply masculine with a hint of sweet lavender. It was overwhelmingly Aaron.

“Profiler’s aren’t required to carry.” He tried to sound sympathetic, but I knew he would be disappointed if I failed, his time was precious.

“Maybe if you helped me aim.”

 I knew it was an ambit claim, my only motivation was to feel his body pressed against mine, it had little to do with any real progress I thought I’d make. I looked into his eyes and suddenly I knew that he knew what I wanted, and that he was equally aware it was futile, but somehow he was prepared to do it anyway.

We spoke no words as he pressed himself against my back, his foot moving to adjust my stance, spreading my legs ever so slightly wider apart. Then his arms wrapped around the outside of mine, mirroring my posture but supporting my muscles ever so subtly. Without even thinking I leaned back against him, wanting nothing more than to feel the taut length of his body against mine. I tipped back my head until it was resting in the space between his neck and his shoulder.

“Can you even see the target from there Reid?” he whispered into the ear that had managed to nestle itself against his cheek and then his lips as he turned his head towards me.

“Maybe if I open my eyes,” I ventured, before deliberately rocking back so that my ass was rubbing against his groin.

Slowly he lowered our arms and then pulled the gun from my grip. I heard the click of the safety being engaged and then I felt his hands tugging my shirt free from the waistband of my pants. Hands that were both soft and calloused at the same time, much like a musician, stroked their way up my ribs until his fingers grasped my nipples and squeezed. I arched back against him, softly moaning at the conflicting sensations of pleasure and pain.

“Oh God Aaron,” I managed to spill out of my mouth, and then I dropped suddenly to my knees, spinning around so that my face was level with his zip.

Without a second thought I pulled down his fly and reached into his pants. He was half hard and I closed my hand around the length of his dick and drew it out into my mouth.

He groaned loudly as I sucked him as far into my mouth as I could take without opening my throat. While I’d had some practice with Byron, it had been years since I’d tried to give anyone a blowjob. It was only my need to make Aaron feel as good as I could, to in some way quench the desire that had been building in me for the last two years that made it seem easy. I found a rhythm that had Aaron panting and close to the edge. He opened his eyes and looked down at me, my mouth wrapped around his swollen erection, my hands gripping his hips, still clothed in his expensive designer suit. The smoldering need in his eyes and the taste of him as he came noisily into my mouth triggered my own orgasm, driven more by the knowledge of his pleasure than any physical sensation given to my own body.

I slowed down my pace to milk him of every last drop, delicately devouring any trace of his fluid before gently releasing his softened dick from my mouth. I felt strong hands grip the sides of my chest and gently but firmly pull me to my feet. Then his arms were encircling me and his tongue was pushing into my mouth, seeking to taste himself in the spaces within. He lowered his hand to my groin and feeling the dampness there made a small exclamation of surprise.

“You came already?” he said softly.

“The taste of you has a somewhat liberating effect on my body” I replied as I nuzzled into the hollow of his jaw.

“Oh Spencer,” he whispered, his head tilted back to give me better access to the column of his throat.

“Yes Aaron,” I replied as my teeth scraped against the rough shadow of hair on his skin, never hard enough to leave a mark but firm enough so that he could be in no doubt as to my desire.

“This, this can’t ever happen again.” He sounded genuinely sorry.

“I know Aaron. It won’t,” I lied.


End file.
